


Beginnings

by Terrific_Lunacy



Series: First encounters in history [4]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, Hercules POV, Historical Inaccuracy, sons of liberty - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8110006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terrific_Lunacy/pseuds/Terrific_Lunacy
Summary: It was definitely not Herc's fault that he got stuck with providing for a penniless orphan, but at one point he might need to thank his brother for arranging it. Because Alexander Hamilton's legacy might one day just be big enough to include him in history.   Herc caught a pair of brilliantly intense eyes and a confident, almost military posture, before his mind settled on the pitiable state the guy’s clothes were in.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part 4 of the series, but can be read independently.
> 
> Based on the fact that Hercules was at least 15 years older than Hamilton and Ham may have boarded with him shortly upon arriving on the mainland! The rest is pure imagination.

 

 

Herc was staring at the little storage room, sighing when he saw it was full with no doubt heavy boxes and old equipment. Why his brother had thought this would make for adequate lodgings for a teenager was anyone’s guess.

His brother then conveniently disappeared on a trading mission for their company, leaving Herc with a “Oh remember Mr. Knox? He’s sending some orphan from the Caribbean here for a higher education and I told him we had space until the poor kid can figure something out. See ya!”

The storage room was Herc’s to clean up, of course. And in addition to running the shop alone, he now also had to take care of some seventeen year old. Or was it nineteen? Anyways, young and far from self-sustaining.

He wasn’t blaming the kid mind you, he just wasn’t particularly looking forward to look after some shy, probably freshly orphaned, teary-eyed stranger, who didn’t know how things worked on the mainland.

Hercules could not have been more wrong. In fact the kid was so completely the opposite of what he had expected that Herc didn’t even recognize him when he opened the door.

“Mr. Mulligan?”

The guy was short - compared to Herc most men were but this one was tiny - yet for some strange reason he filled out more space than his body should have allowed him to. Herc caught a pair of brilliantly intense eyes and a confident, almost military posture, before his mind settled on the pitiable state the guy’s clothes were in.

“Are you here for a fitting? Shop entrance is over there.”

“Pardon?” The young man’s eyes flitted to the store’s sign. “Oh. No sir. My name is Alexander Hamilton, at your service.”

The pieces finally clicked into place in Herc’s head and he shook the briskly offered hand with slight bemusement.

The small hand all but disappeared in his large one, but the grip was surprisingly strong.

“I am of course much obliged to you sir,” the kid continued. “Please do not hesitate to note down any expenses my inconvenience costs you, I will fully compensate you as soon as I am able.”

The grown-up version of what was coming out of his mouth and his scrawny, small body did not match up at all and gave Herc a light headache.

“You can call me Herc, kid,” he said, ignoring the way Hamilton’s eyes narrowed slightly at the appellation. “Do you need any help carrying stuff?”

They both looked down to the only piece of baggage Hamilton appeared to have, a stack of books, neatly bundled together.

Hamilton seemed suddenly uncomfortable. “No s- Herc. That would be all.”

“What?” Herc asked perplexed. “What about clothes?”

Hamilton’s face flushed enough that it showed on his tanned complexion while he fiddled nervously with the hem of his shirt - his only shirt, Herc corrected.

“I wash them frequently,” Hamilton said defensively.

Not knowing how to reply to that, he showed Hamilton to the now clean but still tiny storage room, equipped with the bare necessities.

Herc scratched his head awkwardly while Hamilton mustered his new quarters keenly. “Sorry, I know it’s small but-“

“It’s perfect,” Hamilton interrupted.

Herc snorted. “You don’t need to spare my feelings, kid.”

Hamilton looked up at him, eyes shining. “It has a _table_.”

What a strange kid.

* * *

 

They fell into an easy rhythm together. Herc was busy with the shop and Hamilton attended a preparatory school that got him ready for college. Herc had expected to make some compromises now that someone else was living with him, but Hamilton had a way of taking up as little space as possible, despite the magnetic presence Herc felt around him.

Herc usually would have given the kid more attention, but the unrest in the colonies was growing and a few people had _finally_ made the decision to rise up.

“Where have you been?” Hamilton asked sharply, accosting him at the entrance door in the middle of the night.

Not for the first time Herc was cursing Hamilton’s light sleep.

“Nowhere,” he grumbled. “Go back to sleep, kid.”

“You’re soaking wet!”

Well he had fallen into the sea, but Hamilton was better off not knowing that. Herc didn’t want to force some innocent kid to choose sides.

It would have been fine probably, if the next morning the destruction of tea in several harbors much like Boston wasn’t covered so extensively in the paper. And Hamilton always read the paper.

“You’re one of them aren’t you?” he asked Herc over breakfast.

Herc sighed. “Look, kid. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Doesn’t concern me?!” Hamilton’s voice was filled with indignation. “Where are you meeting?”

“Kid-“

“I want in.”

Herc blinked at him. “…What?”

“Take me with you,” Hamilton insisted.

“Now look here little man, this isn’t just some game okay? This is a very complicated conflict and we’re doing some dangerous stuff, and someone as young as you-“

“It will be people as young as me that will have to live with the consequences!” Hamilton jumped up, his temper making him appear bigger than he actually was, the coiled presence around him unfurling. “I will have to live in this nation and what’s the state of our nation? As we are we don’t have any rights and no power. Britain is taxing us relentlessly and just expects us to put up with it. I’m past patiently waiting-“

“Woah, okay, jesus, calm down,” Herc laughed. “Where did all that come from?”

“I-…I-“ Hamilton stammered, still looking angry and frustrated.

Herc grinned. “You’ve been holding back on me, haven’t you?”

“My mouth…gets me in trouble,” Hamilton admitted.

Herc had never made an easier decision. “Tell you what kid, I’ll take you to our next meeting-“

Hamilton’s head snapped up, beaming.

“ _If_ you promise me something.”

Hamilton grimaced. “Talk less, smile more?”

“What? No, where did you get that crap from?” Herc crouched down slightly, so he would be eye-level with Hamilton. “Promise me not to hold back on these issues yeah? We could use a mind like yours.”

Hamilton looked at him suspiciously, but finally nodded.

Herc smiled. “You’re gonna go far kid, I can feel it.”

“I’m not a kid,” the kid scowled. “My name is Alexander Hamilton.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t be shocked when your history book mentions me.”

“I’m sure it will.” He ruffled the kid’s hair because he knew how much Hamilton got flustered by things that weren’t neat. “Kid.”


End file.
